


Chip Away the Stone to Reveal the Statue

by Goody



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Brainwashing, Established Relationship, Gang Rape, Hurt Bucky Barnes, Hydra are dicks, I'll say again, Non-Consensual, Protective Steve, h/c, pretty dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-13
Updated: 2014-04-13
Packaged: 2018-01-19 04:17:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1455070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goody/pseuds/Goody
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky Barnes hasn’t been the Winter Soldier for six months. Hydra intends to change that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Notes: Got a little tired of all the Bucky slowly gets his memories back fics so this one is established relationship, he’s all fixed up, let’s fuck him up again with a lot of angst and H/C.  
> Warnings: Graphic Violence, Brainwashing, Fairly Detailed Non-Con

“Well this is embarrassing,” Steve muttered before slamming his shield into the forcefield one more time, the effort proving just as futile as his first dozen attempts.

“I don’t like being captured,” Bucky agreed, punching at the shimmering wall with his bionic arm to the same effect, “but I like it even less when I don’t get to put up a fight first.”

“Anything on your comm?” Steve asked.

Bucky touched his ear and shook his head. “Dead. They’re jamming us.”

“Whoever ‘they’ are.” Steve looked around, not liking anything about the situation. They had gone in alone to investigate what was supposed to be a storage warehouse for a new terrorist cell that the remnants of SHIELD had tipped them off about, but instead of armed guards and crates full of weapons they had found only empty rooms and now two individual forcefields that had shot out of the ceiling to contain them and cut off all their communication devices.

“This is starting to feel more and more like a trap,” Steve mused.

“Funny, I was thinking the same thing. Any chance that fancy shield of yours could hit the forcefield generators?” Bucky suggested, pointing at the high ceiling. Steve craned his neck and shook his head.

“From what I can tell they’ve ingeniously placed the forcefield generators outside of the forcefield.”

“Separate cells,” Bucky grumbled. “This is bullshit. We can’t even fool around.”

Bucky hit the wall again, wincing when sparks flew this time and a jolt went up his arm.

“Let’s focus on the issue at hand, and save your energy until we have something real to hit,” Steve suggested, having no desire to see Bucky hurting himself.

Shaking out his arm, Bucky growled. “If Nat has to come in here and save us we are never going to hear the end of this.”

“Not to worry Sergeant Barnes,” an accented voice erupted from a speaker somewhere, “I assure you, no one will be rescuing either of you.”

Before either of them could respond an electric shock surged through their cells sending them both to their knees with a grunt, bodies too tense from pain even to scream. It was a long minute before the power shut down and they both slumped to the ground unconscious followed by a laugh echoing around the room.

~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~

Steve woke up on his back wincing at the harsh overhead lighting. Rolling over slowly he found every muscle burning and stiff from the electric shock but was otherwise uninjured. Still flinching from the light he tried to take in his surroundings; he was in a plain gray cell that was just big enough to walk a few feet, two walls were solid steel, the other two were the same shimmering blue forcefield they had been trapped in earlier. Beyond that was a mostly bare room, not as harshly lit as his cell but still lacking windows and housing only a cold metal table. His shield was nowhere in sight but through the second forcefield he found something more important.

“Bucky!” he called out, voice hoarse as he scrambled to the wall separating them. Bucky was on the floor of an identical cell, hopefully only knocked out but Steve couldn’t tell if was breathing from this distance. 

“Bucky, wake up! Come on,” he pleaded, punching the energy wall. “Bucky!”

“I’m up!” he snapped eventually, groaning as his hands came up to shield his eyes as Steve had done. “You can stop shouting.”

“It’s how I show I care,” Steve grumbled. “You all right?”

Bucky pushed himself to his feet shakily. “I’ve got a headache bigger than Stark’s ego and I smell like burnt hair, but I’m fine. You?”

“I’d be better if I wasn’t trapped in a cell by an unknown enemy.”

“Come on Steve, that voice we heard had a German accent, we’ve both got a pretty good idea who this is,” Bucky said trying to sound nonchalant, refusing to meet Steve’s eye as he focussed on checking that his arm functions hadn’t been damaged by the electric shock. 

Steve nodded reluctantly.

“Hydra.”

The people who had made Bucky. 

No, they had made the Winter Soldier, Bucky had remade himself, put himself back together with Steve’s help over several agonizing months. He was Bucky Barnes again, his own man, and he had vowed revenge on Hydra for what they had taken from him, what they had made him, but even that anger wasn’t enough to hold back the fear clawing through his gut at the notion of being back in their hands.

“We’ll get out of here,” Steve promised softly, silently cursing the forcefield that separated them.

Bucky nodded and tried to smile but the tension in his body was clear even from a distance. “Course we will.”

“And then we’ll burn this place to the ground,” Steve added. Bucky’s smile turned genuine as he finally met Steve’s eye.

“Now you’re talking.”

“Such optimism Captain.” They both turned as the same accented voice filled the room followed by a door opening and more lights flicking on around them. A perfectly postured bald man wearing a monocle and high-ranking Hydra uniform walked towards them in clipped steps, flanked by four armed guards. He smiled, all too pleased with himself as he looked over his captives. “I’ll be curious to see how foolishly long it lasts.”

“You obviously don’t know how many Hydra operations we’ve destroyed over the years,” Steve said, moving to the edge of the forcefield to look this man in the eye. 

“On the contrary, I’m only too familiar with your work Captain,” their captor replied bitterly. “You lost us the war, destroyed our arsenals, killed our great leader, foiled our recent plans to create a new world order, and perhaps worst of all,” the man sent an appraising eye towards Bucky who stood up taller, “you stole our greatest weapon away from us. Perhaps I should thank you though, for returning it in one piece, and handing us a most poetic tool for your own destruction.”

Silence hung in the air for a moment as Steve waited for a flippant comment from Bucky, knew it had to be coming, but his partner remained silent and glaring, ringing with tension and rage.

“So you know a lot about me. Who the hell are you?” Steve demanded.

The man said nothing, instead turning to Bucky and raising an eyebrow.

“Strucker,” Bucky answered sharply as though the word had just shot out of his memories like a bullet. The Hydra agent smiled and Bucky hated that he had unwittingly done exactly what he wanted. 

“Very good. What else do you recall I wonder? Can you remember the way I nurtured you all these years? Upgraded your armaments, supervised your emergence from the cold, wiped you clean when you strayed?” His gaze fell to Bucky’s arm, glinting in the harsh light. “Tell me, does it still ache in the winter time?”

“It always aches. Drop this forcefield and I’ll show you how much first hand.”

Strucker’s smile was wiped away for the first time since he had entered the room. 

“So what do you want with us?” Steve asked trying to draw his attention off of Bucky.

“You are here to die Captain, after an appropriate period of pain and suffering, of course. You have been the sword that has cut off far too many of Hydra’s heads, recompense must be made,” Strucker said, taking measured steps that brought him in front of Bucky’s cell where his smile quickly returned “The man you call your friend is here to be the one who kills you.”

Bucky’s teeth ground together, his fists clenched. “Better get comfortable Steve. If he really believes that we’re going to be here an awfully long time cause that’s not going to happen.”

Strucker clucked his tongue like he was scolding a child. “Such a transparent facade, there is no point in pretending you are so confident in your new identity, Soldier.”

“I know who I am. My name is Bucky Barnes and I’m the man who’s going to kill you.”

“You’ve been Barnes for six months. You were the Winter Soldier for 70 years. Our Soldier. If you don’t think that’s who you really are then you’re lying to yourself and your Captain.” 

“Quit the games. I’m right here Strucker, I killed Schmidt, I took down the helicarriers. You want to kill me, do it with your own hands,” Steve taunted.

“But I will. The Winter Soldier is an extension of whoever commands it. He is Hydra’s will embodied in a living weapon, or at least he will be again, soon enough.”

“Careful Strucker, weapons can backfire,” Bucky hissed. 

“You have forgotten yourself Soldier. It will be a pleasure to reshape you once more.”

“My name is Bucky Barnes! Do you hear me?” Bucky punched futilely at the forcefield, trying to get to Strucker. “My name is Bucky Barnes!”

In the other cell Steve’s heart clenched, recognizing the phrase all too well. Bucky had repeated it over and over during the weeks they had spent breaking through the brainwashing, on bad days he still heard him whisper it under his breath, or muttering it to his reflection in the mirror after a shower. It was an affirmation that he wished Bucky didn’t need but he knew it gave him strength. 

“Barnes died seventy years ago,” Strucker said. “There was nothing of him left alive on that mountain. His death gave birth to our weapon. A mind remade by Hydra, a body rebuilt solely for our purposes. For seventy years Hydra put life into this body, purpose. Do you really think you can overcome decades of conditioning so easily? That you could clean all of that programming out of your mind?”

Bucky punched the wall again. “Yes.”

Strucker smiled. “кукольные строки.”

Bucky froze instantly. His arm was pulled back, poised for another strike that would never land. Strucker’s smile crinkled up to his eyes.

“You missed a spot.” 

“Bucky?” Steve called, moving to the wall that separated them. “Bucky, what’s wrong?”

Bucky didn’t answer. He remained completely still, no muscles flinching except his breath, now coming in harsh pants through his nose. 

“Bucky!” Steve turned to Strucker. “What did you do to him?”

“I made my point,” Strucker said, calmly typing in a code that lowered the forcefield Bucky stood behind then stepping back to the middle of the room. “Иди сюда.”

Bucky’s arm lowered but the movement was choppy, disjointed, like a video that’s lagging. Steve watched as he walked out of the cell with the same halted movements to stand by Strucker’s side. From this new angle Steve could see Bucky’s face, his expression was dead and emotionless but his eyes burned with a startling mix of rage and fear.

“How?” Steve asked. In all the months of therapy they had gone through he had never seen anything like this from the effects of Bucky’s programming. Sometimes he had shut down emotionally, but he had never gone completely compliant.

“You don’t create the greatest living weapon on the planet and neglect to give it an off switch Captain.” Strucker laughed as though it should be obvious. “He remains useless to us in this state but it serves its purpose.”

At Steve’s questioning gaze he continued. “He is not yet the Winter Soldier, Captain, your friend remains inside for now. He must follow commands but his mind rebels. There is no grace, no passion, only blind obedience. He would be killed in the field in moments.”

“Bucky, fight it! Come on, I know you can do this,” Steve urged him upon learning that Bucky was still aware, but Bucky didn’t move, couldn’t even turn to look in Steve’s direction. 

“Your optimism remains Captain, but it is pointless, this command runs deeper than all the others. It is more a part of him than even the arm we gave him.”

“He’ll never become your weapon again,” Steve said, looking directly at Bucky, trying to give him strength. 

“He will be whatever Hydra requires him to be. We stripped him bare and remade him once before and we shall do so again,” Strucker countered, then looked Bucky up and down, seemingly offended by his SHIELD issued armor. “Speaking of which. раздевать.”

It seemed Bucky was capable of involuntary movement because his body tensed and his breath caught in his throat at the command, but that didn’t help him stop his hands from reaching up to start undoing the buckles on his gear. Steve’s Russian wasn’t great but he knew this word, Bucky had whispered it into his ear often enough and it had him pounding his fist against the wall.

“Stop it Strucker, you made your point!” Steve shouted. Strucker only smiled, taking note of the anguish in Steve’s eyes as Bucky was forced to remove his clothes with halted, angry motions, obviously fighting it in any way he could.

“There is no point to be made. This is simply the first step in the Soldier’s rebirth, stripping himself of all the falseness of this new identity he’s created. The last step will be your death.”

Bucky’s torso was now bare and Steve punched the wall again when he started on the buckle of his pants.

“You said I was here to suffer, not him. Leave him alone!” 

“Captain, if you could see the anguish in your eyes you would understand. What I do now cuts your soul deeper than any wound I could place on your flesh. I am a monster and even I can see that.”

Steve couldn’t deny it. Watching Bucky being forced to act against his will, knowing he was awake and experiencing it all, what Strucker could do with that, the very notion made him nauseous with fear. 

Across the room Bucky’s pants and boots joined the pile of discarded clothes. His expression was still blank but his eyes managed to burn with hatred as he stood up straight, now completely naked, chest heaving with emotion but his fingers unable to clench shut. It was usually an image Steve loved but in that moment he hated it, hated Strucker for twisting it into some sick display of power. 

“And this is only the beginning,” Strucker said. He looked Bucky up and down as though inspecting a horse and eventually nodded, seemingly pleased at the shape he had kept himself in while out of their service. “становиться на колени.”

Steve didn’t know this word. He looked at Bucky, who sunk reluctantly to his knees. Steve braced both hands against the wall to contain himself, knowing Bucky would rather die than willingly kneel to Hydra.

“The transformation process will consist only of pain, you see,” Strucker continued, looping his fingers into Bucky’s hair and pulling his head back to further assert his dominance of the situation. “It is not the way the Soldier was made before but it is how he will be remade, especially for you Captain. He will suffer unimaginably, for as long as we deem it necessary, and he will have two choices. He may endure the pain as Bucky Barnes, the man he says he now is, awake for every moment of torment, unable to fight back, or ...” Strucker’s grip on Bucky’s hair tightened. “He can give in, let his programming resurface and become who he once was. The Soldier feels no pain, no emotion. He does not suffer. Your agony will only end when you give up this name and let the Soldier take over once more.”

Bucky’s eyes were glistening even before Strucker leaned down to whisper in his ear, still loud enough for Steve to hear.

“But know that once you do, the moment you choose to end your suffering and let the Soldier live again, will be the moment Captain Rogers will die at your hand.”

Strucker straightened and turned to Steve, missing the tear that streaked down Bucky’s face. “The longer you can endure the pain, Barnes, the longer your Captain will live.”

Steve wanted to scream with rage at the demonic brilliance of Strucker’s plan. He looked down at Bucky and willed him to look back, to break free, because Steve knew what would happen if they didn’t get out of here. Bucky would never give in to Hydra, especially not if it meant Steve’s death. He would suffer forever if he had to and it would be all Steve’s fault. The thought made his chest go tight and he lashed out once more.

“Bucky get up!” he shouted. “Get up right now you hear me! You’re stronger than this! You’re stronger than them! I know you are!”

Bucky remained on his knees. Strucker laughed, finally releasing his hair. 

“You understand at last,” Strucker smirked. “I can see the cracks forming in you already Captain, it is dangerous to be so attached.”

“It’s also dangerous to piss me off. Ask Johann Schmidt.”

“Perhaps another day. For now I have matters to attend to while you bear witness to the first stage of transformation.” Strucker motioned to the guards at the door, drawing Steve’s attention to them for the first time. They were unmasked and powerfully built, so much so that he wondered if Hydra had found new success in their super soldier serum. A blond guard wearing an expectant smile on a scarred face stepped forward at Strucker’s beckoning. “He’s yours for as long as you wish. Take your time. Alert me when you’ve finished.”

“Yes sir.” The guard snapped a salute then tightened his gun strap so it pulled tight against his back instead of hanging loose at his side. He looked at Bucky kneeling obediently and his grin grew wider. “Thank you sir.”

“Enjoy the show, Captain,” Strucker beamed, making his way for the door. 

Steve would have cursed him but his attention was too fixed on the guards now circling Bucky.

“The Winter Soldier,” the blond one whispered almost reverently before pulling back and slapping Bucky hard across the face, laughing when Bucky’s head snapped back and stayed there, unable to move himself to face front once more. 

“Get away from him,” Steve shouted. 

The guard ignored him and grabbed Bucky’s hair, forcing him to make eye contact. “Not as tough as the legends say. You’ve killed a lot of good men since you left us. I’ve dreamed of having you begging at my feet.”

“Hey, does it make you feel like a big man? Beating on someone who can’t defend themselves?” Steve roared, trying to draw their attention, hoping beyond hope that he might be able to incite them enough to try to take on him instead and leave Bucky alone, anything to save Bucky the beating that was sure to come.

“You misunderstand Captain,” the guard laughed again, his grip on Bucky’s hair tightening, forcing his head back even further. “We’re only here to beat one thing into him.”

The man undid his zipper. He must have been enjoying Strucker’s display because his huge cock was already half hard. 

“You bastards! I’ll kill you! Stop it!”

The man ignored him as he forced Bucky’s jaw opened and buried himself down his throat. 

“I think I’m his type,” the man beamed, earning laughs from his men as Bucky choked on him. They laughed harder when he plugged Bucky’s nose and drove himself in deeper until Bucky was coughing with tears leaking from his eyes, but still he didn’t fight back, forced to endure the humiliation in his own mind.

Slaps and taunts followed as they all took a turn, being bruisingly rough.

Steve screamed throughout all of it, threats he would follow through in a heartbeat, curses, sometimes pleas, anything to make them stop. They ignored him, taunted him, laughed as they manhandled Bucky off his knees eventually and bent him over the table, holding him down roughly, bruising their fingers into him, choking him, uncaring that it was unnecessary, that he couldn’t move let alone fight back. 

“Wish he could talk. Bet the little slut’d be begging for it,” the first guard laughed as he drove into him unprepared.

Bucky could make no voluntary movements. Screaming was involuntary. The first one was the biggest of them all but held nothing back, forcing his way into Bucky and pounding into him hard, his hands braced against his shoulders to pull him back against him as deep as he could go. The second guard pushed his leg up on the table, forcing him further on display, spreading him wider while he fucked him. The third pulled his hair until he was practically standing. The fourth did the same but angled him over the corner forcing him to look directly at Steve as he pounded into him ruthlessly. 

And Steve watched. He punched and kicked at the forcefield until his knuckles bled, until his bones were grinded down and broken, and tears were tracking down his face but still he watched. The wall held, long outlasting even a super soldier’s endurance, even one whose soul was tearing in two.

It was an eternity before they all finished, each forcing Bucky’s mouth open again to clean them off, ignoring how it made him gag.

Strucker came back in, grimacing from the smell but not the act.

The guards were redressed and standing at attention, pleased smiles all around. Bucky was still bent over the table, staring at Steve. 

“I trust you enjoyed the entertainment, Captain.”

“I’m going to build a whole new level of hell to put you in for this Strucker, I swear to God.”

Unphased, Strucker looked at Bucky. “Встань и развернуться.”

Bucky pushed himself off the warm metal, his movements shaky from exhaustion, pain and resistance, but eventually he stood up straight, facing Strucker once more.

“Скажи мне, кто ты.”

“I’m Bucky Barnes,” he answered, his voice shattered from abuse but still strong, still certain. His jaw snapped shut, his body not allowing him to say any more than allowed. The answer pleased Strucker though.

“Excellent. It would be no fun if you gave in too easily. This is the last you will see of your friend Captain. Remember him how he was, on his knees, at our mercy.”

“Bucky, just hold on,” Steve pleaded, ignoring Strucker’s taunts. “We’ll get out of here, I swear, I’ll get you out of here. You’re Bucky Barnes, just remember that!”

“Следуйте за мной,” Strucker ordered, unmoved, leading the way out of the room, Bucky half a step behind him.

“Bucky!” Steve yelled, striking out at the walls again, but Bucky walked out the door behind Strucker and never turned back. 

Steve fell to his knees. He was tempted to pray, but he didn’t think there was anyone listening.

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> кукольные строки - Puppet strings
> 
> Иди сюда - Come out here
> 
> раздевать - Undress
> 
> становиться на колени - Kneel
> 
> Встань и развернуться - Stand up and turn around
> 
> Скажи мне, кто ты - Tell me who are you
> 
> Следуйте за мной - Follow me


	2. Chapter 2

Bucky was never brought back to the cells. Steve thought it was probably because Strucker would see Steve’s presence as a hindrance to Bucky’s transformation back into the Winter Soldier. For the next four days Steve hardly saw anyone other than the guard that brought him food once a day. There were cameras in the room however and he had no illusions that Strucker wasn’t watching him suffer, because he was suffering. It seemed the forcefields could also function as video screens and most of Steve’s days were filled with being forced to watch footage of what was happening to Bucky. Each day was something new inflicted on the man he loved who still seemed incapable of moving. There were electrocution sessions, burns, beatings, all in hi-def video and sound for Steve to watch helplessly from his cell. 

And at the end of every day Strucker would appear in front of Bucky, force him to stand up, which became more and more of a struggle, and ask the same question. 

“Скажи мне, кто ты.”

And he always got the same answer. 

“I’m Bucky Barnes.”

And it would start again. 

Steve had tried to block it out at first, shutting his eyes and covering his ears in an attempt to save his sanity. Strucker must not have liked that because as soon as he did it Bucky’s screams got louder, the charge of electricity flowing through him set dangerously high. When Steve looked up the charge died down again and that’s when he knew that watching was part of how this was going to work.

He prayed for the end of each day, counting the minutes before Strucker would ask his question.

One day Bucky struggled to reply coherently, the tooth they had pulled out filling his mouth with too much blood. Steve watched, hating that he found himself hoping he would hear a different answer that day. Hoping that this would be the day where Bucky would become the Winter Soldier again, the day Bucky’s suffering would end along with Steve’s. 

Eventually Bucky answered Strucker through aftershocks of pain.

“B...Bucky Barnes.”

Steve sighed and hung his head in shame. He’d spent the last five days alone and ignored in a cell and he’d broken before Bucky had. 

~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~

Day six was waterboarding. Steve watched, hating how grateful he was that there were no screams this day.

Steve noticed a different sound coming from nearby though and stood up, listening carefully. A bowstring twanging, the sound of garrote wire unspooling, a body dropping to the floor. 

The door across the room opened to reveal red hair and a feminine silhouette. 

Natasha almost smiled in relief to see him alive. That smile disappeared when her eyes lit upon what was happening on the screen. The bloody figure on the table had his head covered but the metal arm was unmistakable. Steve could see her brilliant mind doing the calculations. She met his eyes.

“Is he still ...?”

“Yesterday he was,” he said.

She nodded and threw a stinger disc in his direction, the electricity destroying the images and the forcefield at the same time.

“Let’s get moving then,” she said. 

He followed her into the hall where Clint had been covering the door. 

“Hey Cap, found you something on the way in,” Clint greeted him brightly, handing him in his shield. “Where’s Barnes?”

Steve strapped the shield to his arm and started down the hallway. “In the building somewhere, surrounded by dead men.”

Clint looked at Natasha to explain but she followed Steve silently. Clint went with them but stayed a step behind the two, smart enough not to get in the way of the blood bath that was certainly coming.

The way to Bucky was soon painted in bloody footsteps as they fought their way through the base. Steve held nothing back. Natasha killed with a rarely seen ferocity while Clint watched their backs, picking off stragglers.

They found Bucky a level below, laid out on a table coughing up water. The guards were laid out in moments then Steve and Nat raced to his side.

“Bucky!”

“James! James can you hear me?” Natasha asked, taking his face in her hands when he didn’t respond. His eyes were open, well the one that wasn’t swollen half shut, but he made no reaction to them being there other than the speeding up of his heart. Natasha looked over his body, it was almost entirely made of bruises, burns and swollen breaks, the only part of him left untouched appeared to be his metal arm. “What did they do to him?”

“They had some kind of trigger word,” Steve explained. “He’s awake he just can’t move.”

Natasha swore in Russian. Steve couldn’t disagree. 

“We need to find Strucker, he’s the one who activated it.”

“This who you’re looking for?” Clint asked, appearing in the doorway with a half conscious Baron von Strucker in tow.

“Yeah, that’s him,” Steve hissed, taking Strucker by the lapels and slamming him against the wall. 

“Captain,” Strucker greeted, “how goes your optimism now?”

“It’s two seconds away from snapping your neck. Fix Bucky!”

“Or?”

“Or I’ll recreate every moment of the hell you put him through on you before you die.”

Strucker laughed. 

“Captain, please, we all know you are not a man who tortures, you will not even kill your enemies if unarmed and look.” Strucker raised his empty hands and shrugged.

A groan across the room drew Steve’s attention. An unconscious guard was waking up, trying to stand. It was the blond man with the face scars from that first terrible day. Steve picked a gun up off the floor and shot him through the temple then turned back to Strucker.

“Today I am. For that man I am. Now fix him!”

Strucker’s eyes strayed to the dead guard and he swallowed, not accustomed to such ruthlessness from their enemy. “красные дорога проходит.”

On the table Bucky gasped, both hands flying up, legs twitching and body spasming, all the movement and control he had been struggling to regain for days returning all at once.

“Bucky!” Steve threw Strucker to the ground and took his shoulder to steady him. “You’re okay, I got you. I’m here.”

“Steve?” he rasped, trying to sit up, tears of relief flooding his eyes.

Steve didn’t try to stop him, instead he pulled him up into his arms, burying his face in Bucky’s hair, breathing him in, sighing with relief.

“You’re alive,” Bucky whispered.

“Back at ya,” Steve said. 

A few feet away Strucker shifted, wiping dust off of his uniform as he stood up. Steve turned to face him. Bucky sat up straighter, eyes narrowing, his erratic breathing going almost flat with calm. Steve handed him his gun. Bucky emptied the clip into Strucker’s skull, firing even as the body fell to the ground. There was a moment of silence before Bucky let the gun fall to the floor and collapsed against Steve.

“Take me home.”

~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~

It was a week before Bucky could return home. He spent most of that time sedated in medical, waking from any natural sleep in minutes, screaming and swinging madly after nightmares of being trapped inside his body again. Steve was there for each one, holding him and backing off the medical staff with a glare, only allowing them close when Bucky agreed to the sedatives. 

In the end his physical injuries were more painful than life threatening, exactly as Hydra had intended. His real arm was wrapped in a cast, fingers and wrist broken, while most of his body was covered in bruises, cuts and burns. His mind was the most damaged though and everyone knew it. Tony made calls to the world’s leading experts on torture recovery and brainwashing techniques promising he could have them all there at the drop of a dime. Bucky threatened to shoot him when he talked about the recovery therapists. He demanded as much information on the brainwashing specialists as possible though. He needed it all out of his head.

Bucky was silent the entire drive home and the elevator ride up to their apartment, ignoring most of Steve’s attempts at conversation. 

When they walked in the door Steve went to the kitchen to check what they had for food. Bucky wandered, lost, unsure what to do with himself in his own home until he got to the living room. On the table was a crossword puzzle, half finished. Bucky had been working on it when they got the call to move. That had been almost two weeks ago. A lifetime ago, but here was his life, waiting for him to come back as though nothing had happened.

He dropped to the couch, elbows on his knees, tears slipping through the hand covering his face.

It didn’t take long for Steve to walk in, making noise to let him know he was there, then silently sitting down next to him and pulling him into his arms. 

“It’ll be all right,” Steve promised. “I know it doesn’t seem like it, but it will. We’ve gotten through this before. We’ll do it again.”

A moment later Bucky stiffened in his arms, nodded and abruptly pulled away. 

“Sorry, I’m fine, you’re right. It’ll be fine.”

Steve would have been reassured if not for the cold expression on Bucky’s face and the dead set of his eyes.

“It’s all right to let it out Buck. You can’t compartmentalize it all, you’ll explode.”

“You’d be surprised. At least there’s one good thing out of being the Winter Soldier.”

“Hey, nothing they did to you was good!” Steve scolded. “None of it was okay. None of it, except ...”

Steve looked away, piquing Bucky’s interest. “Except what?”

“It’s selfish and it’s terrible, because I hate what they did to you, what they keep doing to you, but I’m glad you’re alive Bucky, I’m glad you’re here with me.”

“I wish the feeling was mutual,” Bucky muttered. At Steve’s crestfallen expression he rushed to add, “We don’t know what else is inside me, Steve, what else I could do.”

“I don’t care.”

“You should care! What if I kill someone? What if I kill you? And don’t say it couldn’t happen. Hell, I didn’t know anything about this trigger and look what it did. I couldn’t move Steve! I couldn’t fight back, I couldn’t do anything! There could be a dozen kill switches embedded in me for all we know. I shouldn’t be here, it’s not safe.”

“You really believe that?”

“Yes.”

“Then you’re an idiot.”

“Your counselling skills could use some work, you know that?” Bucky huffed, turning away.

“Why didn’t you give into Strucker? They had you for days, they pushed you to the limits. Why not just let go?”

“Because I didn’t want to be their weapon again.”

“Why else?”

Bucky finally faced him again, bringing a hand up to cup Steve’s cheek. “Because I couldn’t let you die. I couldn’t be the one to kill you.”

“Seems to be a recurring theme with you. You protected me Bucky, whether you think so or not. The whole time Hydra had us, you didn’t give in, just to keep me alive. That’s something I’m never going to forget, or forgive myself for. So no, I’m not worried you’ll hurt me, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Bucky shook his head. “You stubborn loyal idiot. How could you even want me? After all this? Even before this? I don’t even know who I am Steve.”

“James Buchanan Barnes,” Steve said with ferocious certainty. “If there is one thing we can take away from this bullshit, it’s that you are and always will be, without a doubt, James Buchanan Barnes.”

When Bucky looked to protest Steve cut him off. “I don’t care what you tell me Bucky. Hydra tortured you for days and I can’t even imagine what it was like for you, how terrifying it must have been, but I know at the end of every day they asked you a question. What did you tell them?”

“Steve ...”

“What did you tell them?”

“I’m Bucky Barnes.”

“Exactly. Not the Winter Soldier. Not the weapon they were trying to pry out of you any way possible. Not anything they wanted you to be. You’re Bucky Barnes and you stayed Bucky through everything they could throw at you, even when you couldn’t fight back, even when you couldn’t move. And if you still have doubts about who you are after all that then I don’t know what to tell you.”

Bucky’s lip was quivering when he looked up with a smile that Steve didn’t think he’d ever see that bright again and kissed Steve hard, relief and joy flooding through him. He pulled away, still smiling at the realization.

“I’m Bucky Barnes.”

Steve put a hand on the back of his head, pulling them closer. “Now and forever.”

The end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Скажи мне, кто ты - tell me who are you
> 
> красные дорога проходит - red road runs


End file.
